Beach Filler Episode (OPEN)

[Gildarts]

Almost everyone around had taken their turn at spinning a tale. Gildarts had found all of the Ambrosian’s stories rather cute and… Also rather unscary, if that was a thing. Piqui’s was probably his favorite, bringing them all back to the campfire, as though this was where friends belonged. Laughing, jeering, making sexual innuendos. Yup, friends.

The Fairy Tail wizard tended to make those relatively quickly, the charisma he wielded was as powerful as any weapon or foe he could dare to face. His eyes revolved across the fire. So far, it wasn’t so bad. They’d tasted the devil’s fruit, s’mores, cooked well, fish and wieners in skewers on the flames of the fire, and so far, there’d only been a few dirty things said. All in all, Gildarts couldn’t really complain.

The auburn-haired prime found himself looking at Dust, his apprentice and protege. The young man had about a darkness in him, but yet, so had Gildarts at that age and heck, up until he was nearly fifty. But he had overcome it. Gildarts wished the same for his friend, simply, plainly, the wizard had hope for the boy’s future, even if it was condemned in the hell of the Omniverse. Good things always tended to unravel from more good things. Inspiration was a spreading wave, never ending in the ocean’s wrathful waves. The mage’s thoughts lingered in the distance still, until Dust’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Gil, I think you’re the last one, why don’t you go next?” Dust offered simply, kindness in his voice, in notes.

“Hm? Me? People don’t want to hear my story…” Gildarts thought, feeling a gentle wryness surge within him as he saw the eyes befall him with curiosities as vast as the seas.

“Sure we do, go on, don’t you wanna know what Molly’s prize is?” Dust ushered the Prime again.

“Well, I won’t hold back, if that’s the case,” Gildarts promised. He cleared his throat and began to spin his tale, the fire seemed to dim as Gildarts spoke, emphasizing the darkness over the light.

“Once, there was a man. He lived a happy life, despite his gruesome upbringing, constant shortcomings, and consistent defeats. He had a kind of supernatural resilience, power unquenchable by even blood. So often, he thought about isolating himself, going far away from the people and faces who had scorned him so long, until he found out this supernatural ability could be useful. When he was a child, was a raid one day in his hometown, creatures that mowed over soldiers like they were nothing. And this youthful boy took his turn to fight, wielding his hell-sent power, he unleashed his wrath. And the invading monsters fell, not one by one, but all at once.”

His tone remained steady and slow, “But, it was not just the monsters that fell, but the townspeople too. He’d not learned to control his power, for fear of the truth. And that fear became him, as a young boy, he’d watched them all die like broken toys. It was his father’s belief, that no man (and especially no child) should have had that kind of power. But now, his father was dead. Fallen like the rest of the only people the child had ever known. Guilt, shame, helplessness rose within him. He’d been allowed to live, but what made him so deserving when even his mother had been slain by the boy’s own hand?”

It held a slight philosophical edge as Gildarts described the boy’s survival guilt, “He thought about any way he could get rid of these powers, the power that had let him slay the enemy who had invaded his town. He searched many cities for the answers, asked their elders, who merely told him to pray to the Gods to learn how to master such unquenchable magic. There had been mages before, but none that wielded the magic that delivered death so quickly. It was a curse, not a gift. Of that, the youth was convinced. Soon enough, the boy had realized that there were others like him. Stronger. But far more evil than he who had merely chaos lit as an eternal fire in his soul.”

Gildarts spoke from experience, framing the details with the horrors of the life he’d spent, “Their morality was dead. Their perception of the gods was the same. They saw slaughter and war as their salvation and the teenager suddenly realized his purpose. He may have wielded the most infinite magic in all of the world, but the real magic he had, the one that was able to keep him going through the night was the magic of hope, so often, it resurrected him when he was sure he couldn’t go on. It kept him fighting and winning for his own cause. Every time he feared casting a spell of death in place of one that would simply allow defeat, he would remind himself the reason he fought. Noble, maybe. Simple, of course. Worth it? Always. The man fought to be a better version of himself. For that, he almost always won.”

The prime took a breath, he was far from over, “So, his skill and control continued to evolve, for he had lives to protect, morals to be courageous for, and now, he had a reason not to die, but to live. The mage continued on. Exploring the world, making friends and alliances who had similar goals, protect the innocent, weak, and helpless. For so often he identified with them. At that is how this man lived his life. But, these were not the only challenges he faced. No, the darkest part is coming next.”

The crowd had stilled, intrigued, perplexed by what was truth, and what was embellished. Most, didn’t know the prime, most did not guess or infer, but it certainly sounded like this story was personal to the prime. “Within him, throughout his every struggle, always rising up to meet and clash with the light of his hope, was the darkness in his mind. That of the bitter scorn of doubt, that which was drenched with fear, that which told him his every victory had been a fallacy. For it connivingly convinced him, that he had never evolved past being that little boy who had slaughtered his own village in the name of valiance. It spat on him, called his every truth a lie. One might have called this dark monster depression, others, the voice of reason.”

“That very darkness, the one which carried his every haunting fear and leapt at the chance to exploit it, was something that the man learned to live with. Tauntingly looming around every corner. Threatening to soil every happy moment, allowing him no achievement in his victory. The marrow of his life had been sapped, tasteless. That which he fought so long for, finally began to turn gray when the things he loved had been stolen away. That darkness, that blackness, it tempted the man to make the wrong choices. To walk until he found the ocean, and then, keep walking.”


“That darkness, is the darkness of man. And it is inside of us all.”

Suddenly, Gildarts’ skin turned to the color of coal, his eyes became a crimson color of red, and the story turned into reality, as the crash mage became the essence of the darkness in the story, turning that which was but a story, into reality. O’r the dimmed flickers of the fire that had whooshed to but tiny grass-blades peeking over the logs, Gildarts could see the sudden shock of his theatrics shimmer in their eyes.

‘Shadow Gildarts’ looked a lot like a demon, Ash’s eyes fixed on him for a moment, but no horns sprouted, still, there was an evil haunting about him that was unmistakably different than the man that had been sitting on that log a moment prior. It was almost like a ghost, undetectable unless you were looking straight at him. Most were transfixed, unable to tear their eyes away, for fear, of what the crimson-eyed crash mage would do next. There was… A thirst about this Gildarts, one that was tangible, almost carnivorous as a vampire.

The audience waited to see what Gildarts would do next, there was something about this one that seemed truly, to embody the same darkness similar to his story that sent a creepy chill down their spines. Meanwhile, the glowing scarlet eyes in the night added to the ominous, insidious, and spooky mood that had been turned by the mage with the slightest flicker of vanishing fire, and cast of shade as though from a voodoo spell.

While their gazes all passed from the shaded Prime, back to one another, Gildarts smiled in this new form, and it was… Creepy, for his ivory teeth appeared as fangs against the pure black backdrop. Gildarts flicked his hand and immediate color came to his olive-toned bronzed skin, the prime offered a thrilled smile, “That was great! You guys all looked pretty scared! Though let me tell you, the real scary story is coming home and your wife is angry, but you don’t know whyy.”

He paused. People were too shocked to laugh at his rather tasteful and insightful joke. Gil turned to his daughter, “Well? What do you think Mol-”

His eyes fell on her, she’d fallen asleep in her chair and a warm, fatherly smile wove its way onto Gildarts’ lips as he spoke quietly, “Guess we’ll never find out what the winner gets, eh?”

“Nonsense Gil,” Piqui matched his whisper, “I’ve got the prize box right here, we just have to anoint the winner.”

“Is it, democratic, or do you choose one?” Gildarts asked, his tone remaining quiet.

“I think Molly would be the one to decide, her prize and all, and she doesn’t strike me as someone who would give her prize away to just anyone because people told her to. In other words, she is the popular vote.” Piqui summarized.

“But she’s asleep now, we shouldn’t wake her,” Someone chirped up.

“Being her sidekick and second in command, I deem myself worthy to choose,” Piqui said nobly.

Some people blinked repeatedly, this was certainly some kind of development. The entire competition was a little bit fixed, and a little bit of a fluke.

“First, I’ll announce the runner up, who doesn’t get a prize, but in my opinion, the story was tantalizing. Demon lady, your story about the car and the ghost and the party was very unnerving. It was superb for my tastes, but it also lacked fish, which is my favorite food.” Piqui informed them unnecessarily, just like Natsu’s Happy did, back home.

“The winner, is the story about the desires of wealth, wishes gone wrong, and the mansion! Spoken by, Rosie was it? While it did not have fish in it, I felt it spoke to the desires of man and their darkness, and the creatures that go bump in the night. It certainly played on my fears and every deal has a price. Truths, darkness, and immortal creatures of mysticism, and it also had the relatability of wishes, I’d say a very well-rounded story, plus the sound effects were top notch,” The cat offered a wink to her feline friend and delivered the box to the cat’s paws.

“Well, open it! I’d like to see what’s inside!” Ash said, almost forgetting they had one sleeping child just across the now, freely brimming campfire.

“I would as well, considering I anointed the first prize,” Piqui stated nobly.

The group gathered around, not invasively, but curiously they inched a little closer. Isabelle and Rosie looked at the box curiously, “Well, go ahead!” the pup said to help motivate her friend.

“Who wants to guess it’ll be a s’more?” Ash or Piqui said at the same time, while the ribbon was unraveled by a single one of the cat’s claws.

“I can feel the suspense building!” Pinkie Pie spoke gleefully, not minding her volume in the slightest. She was met with a chorus of ‘Shhhh’ for the group wasn’t sure what was worse, the naggy ‘chef teacher’ little girl, or the big sugar daddy she had to back her up when she didn’t get her way. There was no way anyone wanted to see how her waking up would play out. Now that would be a real horror story.

Pinkie Pie was begging to drumroll on Gildarts’ abandoned log, he’d stood up wanting to get a closer look at whatever the prize was, because it meant a deeper understanding with Molly. He knew she’d hacked things, heck, she’d helped him before, but it sounded more dangerous than ever, to this protective papa bear.

Ash giggled as the prize was revealed, if Desman had gotten that, or Jak, that would’ve been funny to see, or maybe, it was just the extra buzz from the booze wearing off. Gildarts looked at the item and smiled, it was cute, soft, and seemed like an apt trophy.

“Well, put it on!” the golden puppy ushered her friend.

Rosie hesitated, “Do you, really think it’ll look okay?”

“You’ll stun anyone who looks at you!” Isabelle spoke kindly.

“O-okay!” Rosie said as she took her prize- a beautifully tied ribbon clip-slash-headband and placed it in her hair.

“Oh, side note!” Piqui stated, “I think it changes colors too, so you can match your outfits, or just what mood you’re in!”

“What?! Really? That’s so cool!” Isabelle said, happy for her friend as the fabulous bow was placed in the center of her feline ears.

“I think, since it’s night time and in honor of the ghost stories, I’ll go with purple!” Rosie decided and the group would’ve cheered, but instead, because of noise control, she got many pats on the back and some joyous smiles.

Meanwhile, Gildarts was asking Piqui and their chaperpony how they were getting back, “Car,” Piqui stated and her choice was intercepted.

“-Recall station is faster and it’ll deliver us there. Princess Guu didn’t want to risk them trying to drive again.” Pinkie Pie stated.

“Hmm, your choice, Pinkie Pie, sounds a lot safer, let’s pack you guys up and take you there first. I’ll be back shortly, guys!” Gildarts said quietly in the direction of Dust and Takezo.

Pinkie, Piqui, and Gil packed up the cooler, the chairs, the towels and the umbrella all into things they could carry -well, for the most part at least- Pinkie looked like she’d been fitted for saddlebags, Piqui was struggling with the peculiar shape of the umbrella, and Gildarts was toting an eleven year old girl over his shoulder and the cooler hung off the other one.

As they trudged through the sand and made their way to where Pinkie Pie (the most responsible party planning pony) had directed them. It was kind of like a futuristic teleporter machine. Gildarts had just been in one, but it looked far different. He whispered, “And this’ll take you directly home?”

“Yup, but it likely won’t even be nighttime when we get there,” Pinkie Pie squeaked.

Gildarts nodded, not really sure what exactly was meant by that, but he watched as the magenta pony calibrated the modules. “Right, it looks like it’s all set. Here, you can put here in this chair and just add wheels to it,” Pinkie Pie had unfolded the beach chair and Gildarts did as he was told. It looked almost like a stroller for a child. Piqui wanted to nap on Molly’s lap too, but the umbrella-bearer had responsibilities too.

“So this is goodbye for now?” Gildarts said to Pinkie Pie and Piqui.

“We had lots of fun and s’mores! It was good seeing you again!” Pinkie stated joyfully.

Piqui blinked, “You could come with us?”

“Teleportation… Isn’t my style, my magic could really break things if it got twisted on the way over, but I should be back in Ambrosia shortly. I’ll take the long way,” Gildarts stated with a promise, “Piqui will you tell Molly I had a fun time?”

“I’ll be sure to do that, so long as you show up more often,” the kitten said with ample sass. He expected no less, from Molly’s protege.

After kissing Molly’s bangs, he waved to the three as they vanished in thin air. Then Gildarts, the Strongest Mage went back down to the beach where Dust and Takezo were waiting.

He waved in greeting them too, again and pronounced in his most manly, gruff voice, “So, who wants to grab a beer?”